Renegade 2 0
by Fanimation Danimation
Summary: Trust no one, live longer. Care for yourself, get the job done, no problems. Rules he lived by. Though, accepting his latest job, said rules will no longer apply. Dragged into war against an ancient evil, he finds that he's been an unknown participant, since a child. But, to defeat the greater evil, he must first, battle the one within himself.
1. Altered

**A/N: Sup' Peeps&Peepets! OMG, what does 2.0 mean? Some of you may ask. Well, it's a remake. I know, I know, why revamp this wicked story?! If you REALLY wanna know, it's at the end of the chappie. Anywooie, I hope you all enjoy this one as much as the other.**

**WARNING: Course Language, Gore/Violence, Adult Content, Limes, Possible lemons, Yaoi, and Cloud's utter wickedness**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing Final Fantasy**

**READ, RELAX, REVIEW!**

* * *

Chapter 1: Altered

A string of crimson flashed through electric blue orbs, lingering momentarily before vanishing. He was nothing but a shadow in the night, blending into the darkest of corners and damp alleyways. Eyes cut through the soft downpour, locked onto a obnoxiously loud, heavy set man. Tonight's target. They were in the more seedy places, Red Light District. Cheap whores and strung out addicts lined the streets. Tainted blood, he could smell it from nearly every person he passed. Silently, he stalked his prey, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. It wouldn't have mattered if he killed the man now, death was a frequent visitor in the area. A few bodies littered the street, un-moving, dead. Such a pathetic sight, dead in their own filth.

His target came to a sudden halt, spinning around. Forcing him to turn right. Out the corner of his eye, he saw the man's doe eyes swipe over bodies. He was suspicious. Perfect. Let the man know danger is around the way, that his defectless world of security is now in shambles. He wouldn't give his presence away just yet, he wanted the man to feel the uncertainty, that would shift into fear, and lastly, a stressful depression of survival. Targets were at their best, when they were willing to do anything to stay alive.

So focused on his task, he didn't realize, that his turn landed him face to face with a prostitute. "Hey baby," her voice ragged from a long night and _other_ things, "looking for a good time?" She had a certain charm to her, not to up in age, but the sour taint of her blood made him want to tear her throat out. His silence didn't stop her, "C'mon sugar, I can take you to heaven."

His target began to move. Tension locked his shoulders, as he now moved less freely than he did before. Pink lips smirked. Ready to resume his task, he glanced at the woman, "And I can take you to hell." His words, sultry and suggestive, it was the abnormal sharpening of his eyes, that made the woman back into the stone wall. Leaving the trembling whore behind, he began stalking his prey.

Gliding through the crowd, he ignored the calls offering sex, drugs, and shady merchandise. The two succubus hanging off the target's arm, could smell the gil dripping from him. It was amusing to watch. The gullible man actually thought it was his looks ensnaring them. They were leading him away from the packed district, obviously going somewhere secluded. Not to long after, they were in the Wastelands. A place no soul wanted to be.

How odd, why would the women choose this location?

Mastered in stealth, he scaled the worn walls of the building, the three giggling fools entered. Locating them by sound, he waited for them to come to a stop. Third floor, fifth room to the left. As if he was a phantom, he traveled through the abandoned building, appearing at the door-less room. No one heard him. Engrossed in their sloppy pre-intercourse, they failed to see him enter. A firm hand on Fusion, he watched them.

Pornographic moans, lusty and lengthy, boomed through the empty room. The feral rocks of the women on top of the man, seemed frantic, as if they were in a hurry. He stepped closer, inches away from the first woman. Her back to him. The other facing him, eyes clenched shut, sectioned over the man's face. Fusion slid from its sheath. Perspiration covered the bodies in a thin layer, the moonlight giving them a small glow effect. They looked like corrupted angels. Symbolic and reflective. Fingers locked into the first woman's hair, as she threw her head back. To far gone in passion, to realize the hand in her hair. Fusion drew back, sharp edge pointed toward her petite back. The eyes of the second woman, slowly opened, unfocused, swimming with pleasure.

Electric blues stared blankly into her hazel-greens.

Realization hit, just as Fusion pierced through her friend's back. A shocked gasp, startled cry, and pained scream vibrated his ears. Removing his blade, he tossed the dying woman aside. Slinging the maroon liquid from Fusion, he snatched the second woman by the throat, just as she moved to run pass him. With a flick of his wrist, her neck snapped, body carelessly dropped to the floor alongside her friend.

"Their death was unnecessary," he spoke to the cowering man, "wrong place at the wrong time, I suppose." Lips set in a smirk, he raised Fusion.

"Wait, wait!" The man shouted, face a complete mess with snot and tears, "Wha-What do you want? Huh? I'll give you anything, just tell me!"

Tilting his head, he observed the man. Pitiful how one becomes in the time of self-preservation. "It's not what I want, it's what I'm paid to do," he corrected the man, watching as wheels began to crank up and spin.

"Gil! I-I have that, lots of it..." Trailing off, his eyes shifted toward the corpses of the women he was screwing, shuddering violently, "Just tell me, how much? No, I'll pay you double-triple as much as the person who hired you!"

Humming, Fusion lowered. "Is that so," the man's head nodded fiercely. Feeling that he wouldn't be sliced in half, the man rose, shoving his limbs through his clothes. "Where is it?" The question threw the man for a loop, as he froze in the process of putting his pants back on.

"I-I put... it's in-Ugh!"

Fusion entered through the man's stomach, exiting from his back, scraping against the wall. "Your accounts are frozen, Mr. Lanton. Were you going to pay me with air?" He mocked, twisting Fusion. "Besides, Mrs. Lanton, oops, I meant your _ex-wife_, has paid me finely to take you out." Doe eyes widen, mouth gaping. "Oh, before you die, she has a message for you," leaning in close, he whispered, "I win."

A harsh pull, the now lifeless body of Mr. Lanton fell, face forever stuck in surprised pain. _Tsking_ the dead man, he squatted, using the target's crinkled button-up, to clean Fusion.

"Woman's scorn, both treacherous and lethal."

Rising, he left the room. There was no need to rush, no one would be around. He predicted that the bodies would be found in a week. Someone would come looking for one of the girls, not to sure about the man. Poor bastard.

Walking down the empty streets, sounds of rapid foot falls echoed from behind, a few blocks away. Taking no chances, he melted into the shadows. Pupils sharpening, he scanned the damp sidewalks, waiting. Fortunately, not for long, as an old woman and child came sprinting up the street. Their tattered clothes stained with weird fluids and fresh blood. The poor. The Wastelands was an undesirable place, but, there were some who had no choice. With nowhere else to go, they were forced to live here. Right on their trail, were funny looking men. From what he could make out, they appeared hairless, with terrible discoloration. There was one shielded with a hood.

Not his problem.

Continuing his slow walk, he pushed what occurred away from his mind. It was a long night. All he wanted to do, was rest for a few hours. Three days of no sleep, spent tracking down his target made his muscles wary. A hot bath and few drinks before bed, sounded like his personal heaven. Mind made up, he picked up speed.

The old woman and child forgotten.

* * *

"Cloud! My friend, how are ya'?"

Sitting at the bar, he nodded toward the pot-bellied bartender. Ordering his usual, discreetly scanning the tavern for any future troublemakers. He was in no mood for anyone's shit. There was a group in the back, rowdy and drunk, he was suspicious of them. Betting those would be the ones to ruin the mood. The rest of the men, were average late night drinkers. The tavern whores, working over time, with their false smiles and well acted giggles of flattery.

A dainty hand caressed his shoulder, before arms took hold of his arm. He knew who the woman was, having recorded her scent to memory. Apples, with an undertone of sweet wine. To be honest, he bothered with remembering the woman, only because her blood smelled clean. Pure of drugs, infections, or diseases. Let's see how long that'll last.

Now, what was her name again?

"Long night, handsome?" Pressing her hiked up bust into his arm, he immediately knew what she was after.

Throwing back his Whiskey, he gestured with a nod of his head for a refill. Ignoring the twinkle in the bartender's eyes, he twisted he head, regarding the bleach blonde. "Something like that," placing the glass at his lips, he overlooked the newest member of Swish.

Pouting, she pushed-if possible-eve closer to him. Clingy, a huge turn off for him, but she was beautiful. Besides, with the heady musk floating off her, and lowered eyelids, she was boldly asking for his company. Who was he to turn her away? "Well," taking his glass, just as it was refilled, she licked around the rim, throwing it all back, "the night is still young."

Feeling an extra presence, he looked toward the bartender. The fat man seemed to be in a daze from the little show, the bleach blonde put on. Seeing that the bastard wasn't going to come out of it anytime soon, he turned back to the woman. "I don't pay for whores."

Instead of getting offended, she chuckled. "Fortunately, I'm a waitress. So, keep your gil, and pay me in sex." Straight forward and confident. To coax him more, she whispered absolute smut into his ear.

He only needed seconds to decide. Body coiled tight and ready to spring, with added lust that made his loins stiffen something fierce, he smirked.

"Lead the way."

The waitress happily obliged, taking his hand, leading the way. "Don't break her, my friend!" The bartender shouted, bringing unwanted attention to him. The group of men in the back, face screwed up in a frown. He couldn't help himself. Making eye contact with the one who stood, he tauntingly grinned. Early bird gets the worm, asshole.

Glass shattered and voices roared, as the door shut behind him.

"I have rules-" She pushed him against the wall, pulling him down to roughly capture his lips.

Body flushed to his, she playfully whispered, "Rules? You gonna spank me if I don't follow them, teacher?"

Oh, he'd do a lot of things, and none would be pleasant. But, it seemed she wanted to find out the hard way. Not bothering to answer, he reversed their position. He had no problem fucking and leaving her here. You know what, that sounded like the perfect idea. That way, he wouldn't have to deal with kicking her out his room, after the deed was done.

"We're doing it here?" The uncertainty in her voice almost made him snort. Pushing her up the wall, was his answer. She honestly didn't expect him to believe she wasn't a whore. He knew her type, they were best used and thrown away. Waitress, that was a good one.

Touching a few spots and she was putty in his hands.

Ready to snatch the thin panties from under her skirt, a weak tug on his shirt from behind, made him pause. "Why'd you stop?" Ignoring her breathy inquiry, he turned his head to the side. Carolina blue irises staring up at him, made a confused frown paint its way across his face.

"Fuck off, kid," he ordered, displeased.

It was too late though, his mood was shattered. He tried to build back up his need, but another tug on his shirt, destroyed any chance of him getting back in the mood. Aggressively stepping away, the unsuspecting woman fell to the ground. Her profanities were drowned out, as he focused his attention on the dirty child.

"The hell do you want, ya' little shit?" The child backed away, fingers fidgeting with his dirty shirt, head held down. The bleach blonde bellowed at the top of her lungs, demanding his attention. Snapping his eyes toward her, his eyes burned, "Shut up, bitch, take ya' ass back to the tavern already!" Wasting no time, he turned back to the silent child. Taking a step closer, only for the kid to step away. "Oi, I asked you a question," hand on the hilt of Fusion, he contemplated on using it or not.

A little finger pointed in the direction of the hotel he was staying in. Waiting to see if the kid would say anything, he huffed. Humoring the little snot, he looked in the direction, seeing noting but silent streets. A small hand gripped his. It was unexpected, causing him to tear his away. Glaring at the brat, he turned, walking back to the hotel.

He was painfully aware of the dirty boy trailing behind him. If the kid was anyone else, he would have ignored him. But, there was this unknown weight on his shoulders all of a sudden. Where the hell it came from, he wanted to know too. Paranoia pointed toward the dirty thing behind him.

"Look kid," not stopping to face him, he continued, "if this is your way of panning gil, it ain't working."

Silence.

Ignore it, he wants you to give in. Don't do it! The little snot is just like every other poor kid on the street, this one's no different. Just keep walking. The irksome footsteps behind him, made him sigh in failure. "All right, all right, you got me, I'll bite." Facing the boy, he crossed his arms. The small hand lifted, waiting for something. "Sorry kid, I don't share my spoils." Seconds went by, no movement, no words, nothing. Why did he stop walking?

The hand grabbed his, making him pull away. It repeated. "Stop touching me!" He wasn't much for contact, especially when it was unwanted. The boy didn't heed his warning. Grabbing his hand again, Cloud glared. Growling when the boy didn't release him, he looked away. Defeated by a poor kid...embarrassing.

Roles reversed, they walked hand-in-hand, the boy leading the way.

He must be dreaming, because things like this didn't happen to him. His eyes shifted from sidewalk-to-sidewalk, keeping a look out for people. No one could see him like this. It would insult his imagine. "I'll kill you if this is a trap," he declared, half-serious, half wanting to frighten the boy.

They were moving pass Ester hotel, headed toward the alleyway beside it. Cloud tensed, hand firmly on the hilt of Fusion. If the little bastard _was_ luring him into a trap, he'd be the first to die, then everyone else involved.

"...Denzel..." A voice wheezed, not sounding well off.

The brat, Denzel, pulled him closer to where a figure laid on the filthy ground, against a wall. Eyes adjusting to the dark, he was surprised to see an elderly woman. She was covered in scratches and bite marks, a nasty slash went horizontally across her forehead. She was covered in the scent of fire.

It hit him then. These were the two from earlier tonight. The ones being chased. Something told him, it wasn't a coincidence that they ran into each other.

"Who...are you?" The elder asked, reaching for the kid.

"Don't piss ya' self, grandma," pointing toward Denzel, "the brat brought me here."

Swallowing thickly, "Please...help us," she pleaded, trying to stay conscious.

Snorting, he shook his head, "No can do, I don't take charity cases."

Tears swelled her old eyes, instantly making him uncomfortable, "I b-beg you...if not me, help the child...I can't-" a hard cough cut her off, followed by a groan.

Taking in the situation, he could leave now, and let fate deal with the two. They were poor, no one would miss them. Why should he stick his neck out? From the looks and smell of them, they were dirt poor. He didn't know the meaning of; Free. If he decided to help them, that's what he'd be doing. Helping these poor saps for free. Nope, he wasn't going to do it.

"No gil, no service, lady."

Making a move to leave the disgusting alley, the brat cut him off. Ready to shove him out-of-the-way, he paused, spotting the fire materia. It was held out in offering. Taking the scarlet gem, he turned it over, feeling the power coursing through it. Correction, a mastered fire materia. Where the old fart and dirty little brat got this, he didn't care. He'd been looking for a fire materia, ever since a certain little bitch stole his. He was placed in a good mood.

"This should be enough to pay for my services," pocketing the gem, he found himself lifting the woman into his arms.

Exiting the alley, they walked around to enter the hotel.

* * *

**Ah, this is the end of this wicked chap-chap. Did ya' like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know.**

**REASON FOR REVAMPING RENEGADE: Why did I? Easy, I didn't plan it out, something I usually do for all my stories. But, this idea actually came from a dream I had. I didn't want to forget the wicked idea, so I shaped it into something that'll fit the Final Fantasy world, and typed up the first chapter. No planning. That's a lie, I did sorta plan how their trip to Midgar would be, but, it turned out nothing like I planned. It irked me slightly. I also planned out what made Denzel special, what he was, and why those 'things' wanted him. I felt like I could do better than that.**

**Another reason, while it might not matter to the majority of you, I love writing long chapters. Not overwhelmingly long, but enough to where you can place a cliff hanger, and make the person reading go, _"You mother lover, but damn, that was good."_ My chapters were to short, therefore, not having that desired effect. Oh, and they were short, because I didn't no where I was going with it. Yep yep, I didn't plan much of the story, so I began winging it. Whatever came to mind, I typed up and posted. Something else I don't do and it was killing my _'Organized side'_. **

**Now, I was surprised that a lot of you took to my aggressive Cloud, so I'm not changing him...much. Keep ya' panties on, let me finish! No one's really done this type of Cloud, which made me more excited to be a daredevil. I leaped into it, again, without planning. It was still early into the story, so you might not have wondered or noticed. But, Cloud was just aggressive, yes it was funny, but behind the scenes, there was no easy why. He was 2-Dimensional, unacceptable.**

**Lastly, because I feel like you all, my Peeps&Peepets, my COOKIES&CREAMS deserved more than something half assed. I'm glad, no one saw through what I was doing, and called me out, before I could kick my own ass.**

**Oh oh, plus, after my 'little' family drama, I just...wanted something fresh. Working on the next chapter for Renegade, a more cleaner, better idea popped into my head. **

**So...now you know.**

**\\/\\/ (()) \\/\\/**

**IMPORTANT: Chapters will still be updated on (random) Saturdays! Also, chapters will get longer, promise you that ;***

**!CHOW!**


	2. Involved With Trouble

Chapter 2: Involved With Trouble

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

Left-to-right, front door-to-single window. Hands shoved deeply in pants packets, the busy body paced. Ignoring the staring child seated on the bed, now occupied by a sleeping hag. It had been a little over two hours, since he brought the two into the rented room. He wanted to know, what exactly he'd be doing for the two. Quiet assassination, public execution, surveillance...he needed to know. This wasn't in his schedule. Breaking plan wasn't something he did on the regular.

Walking back to the door, he glanced at the bed. Sucking his teeth, he moved back toward the window. All awhile, the child watched him. Feeling this, he muttered a few unpleasant comments, getting no reaction from the boy. Great, he couldn't even have a proper argument, to lessen the drowning boredom.

Four in the morning and he was still up. How unfair was that! Bones that wept for comfort and muscles that begged to whine down, yet, he could answer neither call. Huffing, he ran fingers roughly through his locks. He needed a drink.

Throwing himself into one of the two chairs in the room, he crossed his arms. Somehow, he found himself in a staring match with the kid. The little freak had no problem with his endless staring. He couldn't brush off the fact that, something was _off_ about the boy. Frown morphing into light curiosity, he dragged his chair, till he came to a stop in front of the boy. Elbows resting on thighs, he leaned forward.

"What's wrong with you?"

The child said nothing. Staring at him, as if he was the one with the problem. That was fine, he loved challenges. Decoding mysterys were a favorite pastime of his. Squinting his eyes, he leaned even closer. Their faces only a hairs length away.

"Trying to psych me out," he suddenly accused, "well guess what, it ain't happening!" Nothing. No shouts of defense, narrowing brows, twisting of lips... "You're no fun, ya' know that, ya' little weirdo." Great, stuck here with a deaf-mute, just great.

Another hour or so passed, when the elderly woman woke.

She seemed delirious at first, mistaking him as a rapist...of all damn things! Of course, he then had to educate her in his taste in women. Wrinkled skin and creaky bones, were nonexistent from the list. Apologies spilled from her lips like water. Just to spite her, he allowed her to plead for his forgiveness, till he grew bored.

"What do you want?" He cut through her next line of apology.

Staring at him for a few seconds, she shook her head, brows inched down. "Forgive me, but...I don't understand what you mean?"

She was senile too, lovely. "In the alley, you asked for my help," to refresh her memory, he showed her the fire materia, "using this for payment." Recognition clouded her fallow brown orbs, "I usually don't take anything other than gil, but, ya' caught me on a good day." Feeling that he was getting somewhere, he leaned against the wall.

"We need your help."

Nodding, "Yeah, I caught that part," gesturing for her to get on with it.

"There are some...bad people after us. We barely got away last night," she looked toward Denzel, who fidgeted with his fingers, "I need your protection."

A red flag was waving through his conscious. He knew when someone was being dishonest with him. Not that it mattered, as long as they paid up front. But...there was that nagging feeling. "Listen lady, I kill, blackmail, abduct, collect incriminating evidence, yada-yada," pointing between her and the kid, "I don't _protect_."

"But, we paid-"

"And you won't be getting it back," he finalized.

Seeing that she'd need great patience, when dealing with the blond, she inhaled slowly. "Very well," exhaling, she searched for something acceptable, "escort use to Midgar, _alive_, and...I'll pay once more, when we get there."

Assessing her, he snorted. Who was she fooling? But, he'd play along. "Escort," rolling the word around his tongue, he shrugged, "I can do that." Flinging himself into a chair, he sat Fusion on top of the round table. "Just so you know," leaning his head back, "I'll take your head, if you try to run."

The woman contained a shiver. Her eyes were playing tricks, because for a second, she could have sworn his eyes flashed crimson. Knowing the man was more than serious, she nodded. "I would never do such a thing," she reassured.

"Uh-huh," with a quick glimpse of the clock, he ordered, "take a bath, we leave soon."

* * *

Fortunately, Migdar was only a city away from Edge. He didn't think he could handle traveling with the two, if it wasn't. Even now, escorting the hag and brat was proving to be a pain. Not only did he feed them, but clothed them as well. The latter was a must, no matter how he looked at it though. He wouldn't have people, who looked like they went dumpster diving on the regular, following him.

Edge was known for its mucky weather, weather that turned its residents into complete bastards. He wasn't much of a city people. To many people, with too much nonsense going on at once. It was yet to be twelve o'clock, and he already wanted to knock the shit out of a few people.

Leading the way, he purchased three train tickets. The moment he stepped onto the platform, to wait for the train, he knew something was wrong. feigning ignorance, he glanced back at the oblivious bystanders. His eyes fell upon Denzel, who seemed to be shocked stiff. Their eyes met. Panic, that was all he saw in the boy's eyes. A hand locked around Fusion. He inhaled deeply, catching every scent closest to him. Fruits, sweat, grime, masculine musk, death...

Singling out the smell of decomposing flesh, Fusion inched its way out of the sheath. He felt energy surge through him, waking his being for battle. Something dead-or close to it-was around them. It was close.

A tug on his shirt, made him look down. Wide eyes stared up at him. Could the kid feel it too? Watching him closely, he saw carolina blues turn slowly toward the right, then shift back to him. His abdomen clutched. Staring straight ahead, he looked ever-so-slightly to his right. Heart accelerated. Standing five people down, was the hooded man from last night. His hand not gripping Fusion, pushed him back slowly. With every inch Denzel moved backwards, the hooded head turned in their direction.

The old woman, who had caught onto the tense atmosphere, pulled Denzel into her. His eyes never left the hooded figure, whose upper body was oddly twisted in their direction. Jaw locked, he turned in the hooded figure's direction. The body twitched, body shifting toward him. Cloud established himself as a threat, whatever the bastard wanted, he'd have to fight for it. The head lifted, displaying cerulean orbs, with prussian blue rays, that blurred with the lime-green framing the slit cornea. Heated and enraged.

Fusion slid free.

Those eyes...

_**It was agonizing! Struggling to sit himself up, eyes searched for the brunette, spotting her a good ten feet away. Completely out of reach. "Ti-Tifa..." She remained silent. Scarlet soaked her sundress, making his heart panic. "Tifa," he tried again, getting the same results. Stupid! It was so stupid, she was so stupid! He was thrice as stupid though, choosing to follow after the idiotic girl. Look at them now!**_

_**His ankle laid twisted in the wrong direction, shoulder-blade forced through the skin, with a twig sticking through his hand. He could do nothing but lay half heartedly on his side. Tears flowed. Anger. Pain. Self-disappointment.**_

_**"Poor little thing," a voice whispered in his ear. He jerked, crying out as he disturbed his wounds. "Are you in pain?"**_

Multiple wails snatched him from the memory.

With unmatched instincts, he step-side dodged a thin blade. Evading a second blade, that aimed for his throat. He spun in a circle, pulling Fusion a part, falling into a stance. In front of him, the hooded figure, dropped into its own fighting stance. The cloaked foe smelled of death. _Impossible_. The figure darted forward, moving at such a speed, that if he wasn't trained to catch, would stand no chance against his opponent. It was unnatural. These were the type of people after the hag and brat!

Meeting blades, he kicked his foot out, only for it to be blocked. Building speed, they danced through the platform, paying no mind to the civilians, who barely escaped with their limbs intact. A rough round-house sent the bastard sailing onto the train tracks. Landing with a sick crunch, the cloaked figure released an unsuspecting roar. One hundred percent animalistic, zero percent human. Taken aback, he watched as the figure rose, body bent backwards. With a string of roars, it forced its body back in its correct setting.

"What the hell did I get myself into?"

Electric blue orbs took in the-now-hoodless monstrosity. It's skin-if you that's what that odd rubbery looking stuff was called-was ashen, black veins throbbing around the skull. Ears, bat-like, twitched every few seconds.

Locking eyes, it roared even louder than before. Preparing for the worse, he waited for the bastard to make its move. He wasn't ready for waves of beastly growls and hisses. Turning in all directions, he tried spotting where they were coming from. Inhaling, he nearly choked on the prudent smell of rotten flesh. It was everywhere. Depending on sound next, he listened for displaced movement. There it was. Sounds of nails scratching against concrete. Glancing around again, he saw no one.

Unless...

"Ah shit," he groaned. Barely missing the clawed hand shooting from underneath him. The attack continued, as hand-after-hand jetted from out the floor. "You bastards fight dirty!" Swinging his blade, he chopped through three arms, that weren't quick enough to disappear. "Take that, you sneaky son's of-" a full body crashed through the floor, startling him backwards.

His feet left the floor, from the blast. A boot catching him in mid-air, sent him sailing across the platform, into another kick from behind. Bones inside shifted, but didn't yield under pressure. Rolling across the ground, he threw himself up, dodging a tackle. Fire materia equipped, he swung out a blast, catching five in its firy wake. Blocking a punch with a high kick, he jumped up to bring his other foot down on the creature's head.

_Crunch._

For a few seconds, he stare at the purplish-black skin, that made up his fallen foe. What the fuck was he fighting? Pushing the thought away, Fusion blocked a swipe meant for his face. "Ha, missed!" He mocked, only to feel claws run up his back. No time to act, he ducked down, following through with a barrel roll. Swinging out, fire sprayed through Fusion.

"No!" A familiar voice screamed, "Get away!"

Dammit, the hag. Moving toward the stairs, a blade slashed through the air. Blood trailed underneath his eye.

"You're gonna regret that," he growled, feeling his blood heat.

They brawled for what felt like hours. The bastard was skilled, knowing tricks with the sword, he didn't even know about. The thin blades sliced through his skin, leaving the feeling of liquid fire in its absent. Swords clashed, neither getting the upper hand. Charging his left blade, he swung diagonal, forcing the hoodless creature to dodge to the right. Swinging his right blade, he caught the creature off guard. It roared in what he guessed was pain, as it dropped one of its blades, clutching at its eye.

"Told ya' you'd regret it."

One of the dark-colored creatures moved to attack, only to freeze at it's leader's cry. All movement stopped. Listening, he caught two pairs of feet running. The old woman and kid. Cautious of the creatures around him, he moved toward the stairs. When none tried to stop him, he raced down them, leaping over the last twenty. The creatures stopped all attacks. It was too good to be true, which was why he needed to hurry, and catch up with the others.

They were close.

"Oi!" He shouted, gaining their attention. Slapping Fusion back together, he snatched Denzel, tucking him underneath his arm. "The subway train arrives in five minutes," he shouted toward the woman running beside him, "we're getting there in three, so move ya' ass!"

Cutting across the street, he shoved anyone-and thing-out of his way. Sheathing Fusion, he took hold of the hag's wrist, forcing her to move faster. He could hear _them_ coming. No time to pay for tickets, he steeled his body, colliding hard with the metal access, that needed gil to turn. Shouts rung out, each ignored, as the train arrived. They had two stair cases, both packed with slow ass pedestrians. Drawing his sword would only make things worse. Tightening his hold on both of his travel companions, he shoulder shoved multiple bodies.

"They're here," the old woman gasped, frightened and out of breath.

He didn't bother looking back, he could smell them. They were getting too close. Breaking into a jog, then sped into a run. He managed to bump a wife and her child away, as he slipped through the train's doors. Placing Denzel back on his feet, he reached for Fusion.

There _he_ was.

The hooded figure brisk walking toward them. "C'mon, close, close, close!" Shifting into a defensive stance, he tightened his hold on Fusion.

_Ding._

Doors closed.

Slit eyes stared into electric blues. Neither looked away. He could see the promise of torture, of absolute death in those eyes. His lips formed into a smirk. Bring it, bitch! Understanding what his expression meant, the hooded creature lifted its head high enough to show its own lips formed into a snarling smirk. Razor sharp, shark-like teeth glistened in the dim lights. The train pulled away from the station.

His very soul gave a sigh of relief. Turning to face the old woman, he muttered, "So that's why you need the protection." She said nothing, comforting the trembling child. They took a seat, paying no mind to the stares they received. Sitting across from the two, he stretched his legs out. He stared at the woman. He knew she could feel his eyes. She was caught, something else she knew he knew. "I didn't give a damn before, but now I do," keeping his voice lowered, they finally made eye contact, "what the fuck is going on?"

"Like I told you, there are bad people after us."

"_People_," he spat, chuckling humorlessly, he continued, "try again, and this time, how about a little honesty."

Pulling Denzel closer to her, she searched for eavesdroppers. "I am deeply sorry for dragging you into this," voice filled anguish, "I had thought I led them off our trail-I was sure of it...there had to be-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're forgiven, get to the point."

She paused. A second of silence. "You don't understand," her head seemed to shake on its own, "they've seen your face, smelt your blood...you can't leave."

"Like hell I can't," he argued, "this train takes us to the outskirts of Midgar. Once we get there, I'm gone." Looking from her to the kid, he needed them to understand, whatever the hell they got themselves into before meeting him, was going to continue on without him. He never thought he'd say it, but, there wasn't enough gil in the world, to make him stick around for anymore freaky shit.

"You can't!" The shout silenced everyone on broad. Flushing, she apologized, clearing her throat a few times. Leaning closer toward him, she whispered, "They'll hunt you, with us or without us."

He said nothing. From the way she spoke...she knew what she was talking about.

Huffing, he relaxed his tense shoulders. It was his wordless way of surrendering. "What's in Midgar?"

Seeing that the storm of their conversation had passed, she leaned back into her seat. Denzel had fallen asleep during their word war. Appearing uncertain, she answered anyway. "My son, he's in charge of the Urban Development Department at ShinRa," she made no comment as he stiffened, "I contacted him before arriving in Edge...he's going to help us."

Cloud curled his fist, blood pumping rapidly. He could feel the tall tale sign of his teeth sharpening, lengthening. Clutching his eyes, to hide what he knew, would no longer be its usual blue. ShinRa. That's where they were headed, back to that fucking hell hole. He promised himself, and those closes to him, that if he ever set foot back in that gods forsaken building, he'd blow it to hell. Taking that fat son of a bitch; President ShinRa, and psychotic fuck; Hojo, with it.

"...Sir..."

Ignoring her, he shifted to lay across the seats. Wounds healing, and would soon be gone before they reach their destination. How'd he explain that, simple, he wouldn't. Going to Midgar was one thing, going to ShinRa was a different story. She had said, those things would hunt him, no matter if he was with them or not. He wasn't scared of those deformed shit heads, but, knowing what he was up against, would help him tremendously. He'd need a plan.

Huffing, "My life just gets better and better..."

* * *

**A/N: Another chapter down! So, did ya' like it? I sure as hell do, more than the other version. The juices are following nonstop. Oh, because I forgot to say it in the last chappie, regular updates(that are on Saturdays)will start, once I post the fifth chapter for this story.**

**!CHOW!**


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